


After the Trials

by HeliosAlpha



Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: Allusions to the other Troll kids, Brooding Caverns, Gen, Headcanon aplenty, Schoolfeeding, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-01
Updated: 2012-05-27
Packaged: 2017-10-27 02:53:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/290866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeliosAlpha/pseuds/HeliosAlpha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A young troll's life is fraught with challenges. It is clear from the very beginning that Karkat Vantas will not be an exception to this rule. But first, this stress and danger should be lessened by a union. A blood bond, perhaps.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This started off as an idea. Because I'm not very good at it, I wanted to undertake an exercise in worldbuilding. Y'know, how stuff goes down on Alternia. Turned into more of a lusus-ward interaction thing than I intended. Oh well. First fic I've made public since 2004. Enjoy.

Tonight, lusus naturae collect in the caverns, waiting to discover the troll they are bound to by blood. They have been waiting all night. Sunrise is not far off. The wrigglers are coming closer, emerging from the deeper cloisters, where their trials have been either bested or failed. It is dark, without the moons and the stars to light their paths. The final stretch is not quite a trial, but it is not much less dangerous for the newly pupated. One particular lusus waits, hissing a sigh of displeasure. He seems impatient, a trait not uncommon in lusii.

To his left, another creature is creating quite a commotion, by dint of purely being there. A mother grub. The other beasts huff and snort restlessly, uncomfortably. A Jade blood is amongst the clutch of wrigglers ascending into the large cave. This lusus hopes that jade is the only unusual blood colour the herd becomes uncomfortable about tonight. There is something unusual about virgin mother grubs that even the most primitive of lusii understand. Giving up the prospect of birthing an entire generation, to care for one single child. He supposes that destiny is destiny. He received the instinctual summon to come to the brooding cavern tonight, and it was irresistible. So did she. Virgo bound to Virgo, and Jade bound to Jade.

Not unlike his wriggler, coming ever closer. Slowly, on tiny little legs, on sharp little clawed feet. They draw closer. He draws closer. Cancer to Cancer, and...

To the right edge of the herd are the Emissaries, each swimming in the acrid taste of psychic possession. Unsurprisingly, these also make the herd uncomfortable. The lusii nearest to the smaller group of beings edge away, snarling and yowling their unease. One is a forest beast, all scales and claws. The other, a troll. An indigo with a glazed expression, pulsing with a terrible force. If it weren't for this awful, thumping, crackling fire, the presence of a troll in the brooding caverns would be cause for uproar. An important seadweller was amongst the clutch. The lusus in the middle of the cavern shuffles slightly to his left. He does not care to study the Emissaries any longer. He is encroaching on the virgin's territory. She chirrups, a subtle warning, before her own eyes flicker to the right. She quietens, but stands her ground. A truce is acknowledged.

Any noise quiets now, and the only sound is breathing and far off movement. A scent fills the cavern, far off and indistinct. The clutch approaches.

A tiny tyrian purple wiggler heads the group as they advance into visible range. Her deep pink gills quiver in the air, as if searching for something different. They are in the final stage of internalisation, when she hatched they would have been external. They will form vestigal fins as the process is finally internalised, made less vulnerable as she grows. She will be beautiful, and terrible, if her blood traits are anything to go by. She scuttles forward, faster than the rest of her group, and the glazed over indigo Emissary is commanded to retrieve her. His limbs move jerkily and his face is contorted into a terrible smile. He coos burning eldritch words to the tiny girl he holds in one arm. Emissary to the Emissary leaves, his infant charge clinging to his shirt. She will be taken to Schoolfeeding, then on to the site where she is entitled to craft her home under the sea. Finally the indigo will be free of his duty.

The lusus wonders whether the indigo's lusus is worried. If he knows. If the indigo will remember what he has seen.

The tension has eased in the cavern slightly with the notable absence of the stench of...well, darkness. Spirits are lifted, albeit momentarily, as there is a death. Blood is spilt, and the scent hits every monster in waiting. A pained shriek rends the herd, as a wolflike guardian leaps forward to collect her charge, no longer in need of protection. She curls her body around her dead ward and howls. The wrigglers with more sense scatter in an array of directions, those without bump into the white fur harmlessly and correct their courses. The death makes the space stiflingly uncomfortable again.

More and more wrigglers come within the grasp of their guardians, and the herd thins, until there are only around two dozen lusii remaining in the cave. All gazing desperately into the gloom. They can smell their children, their shapes not quite discernible yet. The lusii do not consider retrieving their charges. This is their last trial. They'll make it. They are seeking their custodians in the same way their custodians are seeking them. Or at least, they should be.

An angry flurry of chirps and buzzes makes its way out of the dark and into the dim. The smell of him gets stronger, almost unbearably familiar until -

There he is.

And he's just lovely.

Followed by a horde of other wrigglers, clicking and chirping and mewling, flailing with their new found limbs. The Cancerian lusus sweeps in and rescues his crimson ward from the disgruntled clutch, and wonders what he did to excite the group so. He hopes the boy is a troublemaker. The little troll latches onto his lusus's carapace with his needle-sharp claws, and he shields his tiny charge from prying eyes. In the relative brightness of the cave entrance, his still somewhat translucent skin would become a problem very quickly. Or, more accurately, the unnatural shade of the blood pulsing below it.

The lusus and his troll quickly abscond from the cavern, into the safety of the day. The wriggler keeps his eyes firmly closed. He recoils as it is, and his lusus redoubles the efforts to obscure him from view. They seek shelter for the day. They have half a world of travel ahead of them, where the troll's next challenge awaits - schoolfeeding.

His troll.

His boy.


	2. Karkat's Lusus: Travel with irritating troll.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Karkat and Crabdad travel across half the world, are chided for being late, and discover the pleasures that the schoolfeeding facility has to offer.

Half a world seems like much less time when you don't have to wait for a wriggler. An annoyingly independent wriggler, who refuses to let you carry him until his little legs cannot take him any further. He glares up at you and hisses and chirrups when you try.

You stop for refreshment for the third time tonight. You have been following the great river most of the way. You like water. But now the call seems to be summoning you in a different direction. You're glad it's close now. The trip has taken the best part of two perigees, seeing as you have had to stay slow, keeping pace with Karkat. If you'd been permitted to carry His Highness, this trip would've taken half that.

You have thought long and hard about the name. It had to be something that fit him, and obviously something you could say. This difficult little boy and your difficult little mouth had narrowed down the options somewhat. Karkat seems to suit him. He chatters angrily when you call him, but he responds nevertheless, which is a good sign. He's currently drinking deeply from the fast flowing river. This time, he doesn't fall in. His balance improves nightly. His sense of what he should and shouldn't put in his mouth though appears alarmingly lacking. Are they all like this? You flick a rock out of his hand with your tail and growl. He growls back, about as threatening as a baabeast. Especially when followed up by a tiny yawn. No matter how many razor sharp teeth it exposes. He is totally helpless, and utterly charming.

He can't speak yet. Not that it matters, mind you, as you will never be able to speak back to him in the way that other lusii can. You just aren't built for that. But it will be nice to hear him put words to the emotions he appears to feel so strongly. You are still so intensely proud of him, your daymarish spiky troublesome handful of a troll. He _made it._ Against all odds. All of the trials, all of the other wrigglers smelling something wrong about him, all of his tiny outrage about anything and everything which can't work in his favour...He made it. And he will understand what a big deal that is, after his schoolfeeding.

He sits back, rubbing at where you slapped his hand, and wipes cold water from his mouth on his grubby tunic. All wrigglers are clothed in them before their ascent. At schoolfeeding he will his first set of real clothes, with his first insignia. He unsteadily gets to his feet, but his legs give out from underneath him, and he topples towards the river. You dash forward and catch him before he hits the water. You don't want to deal with the way he shrieks when he's wet. He again, supernovas into a little ball of outrage, trying to push you away, chirruping and squeaking, but he's simply too tired to fight for long, and curls up against you, like he did the first night. You sigh, and head away from the river, walking at first, waiting for him to settle. His orange eyes stare accusingly up at you. He makes his last attempt to squirm, but you grumble warningly at him. He glowers, but stills.

You watch his third eyelids creep across, obscuring his brassy glare, until his eyes shut completely. His claws dig into your hide instinctively and he nestles into your thorax as much as he can. Once you're sure he's out for the count, you break into a run. There are still three hours before daybreak. You should make it there in time to seek shelter from the sun's brightest rays if you're quick. So long as you're inside before the sun has fully risen, you should be able to keep Karkat from complaining too much.

You cross ground quickly, unaware how quickly those three hours are passing, but very, very aware that these past few miles have been too barren. You suddenly doubt the direction you're running in, surely you should have seen some civilisation by now, if it's as close as you think it is. You squint at the horizon, and curse your poor vision. Is that a town, or hills? Either way, it can provide shade for the day. You pick up the pace once more. The sun approaches.

He is waking up now. You have never run this fast before, not with him attached to you. He mewls pathetically, clinging to you and looking worried. You curl your other arm around him protectively and coo reassuringly. He is quiet, surprisingly, looking up at you with wide grey eyes framed by thick black lashes. His little snub nose is wrinkled in dismay, his soft jaw clenched strangely hard. Set defiantly, implying  _I'm not scared._ His unsure little twist of a mouth says otherwise. His childish features are framed by a shock of thick, dark hair. It's grown so much since you found one another. He keeps having to brush it out of his eyes, and he grumbles darkly about having to do so. He does this now, his petulant little brow furrowing momentarily before returning to stare up at you.

You have one set of eyes focused on him, another on the mass you are approaching. Is it buildings? You hope so fervently. The air no longer feels cool. The sun is beginning to rise, and in the dim season, it becomes stiflingly hot all too soon.

You are running as fast as you can now, earning you a shriek of dismay as you jostle Karkat about. It's buildings. There are trolls here. There is  _shade_ here.

Karkat holds onto you as tightly as he can, keening his terror as you sprint for the door of the largest building in sight. If you could read the troll's language, you would discover that it said  _SCHOOLFEEDING INSTITUTION #225_ on a large sign above the door. Aforementioned door slides open smoothly and you are greeted by an adolescent, stepping out of your way as you barrel into the foyer of the building.

She is tall for a troll, especially one of less than ten sweeps, when the ships come to take them. She merely stands head and shoulders below you. Her insignia, emblazoned on an armband, is a deep green. Not quite teal, not quite jade. She looks down her clipboard, appears to compare you to a picture, glances down at Karkat, who is staring at his surroundings, wide eyed.

She lays a hand on your carapace.  _Late. Why—child slow bothersome? Follow._

She is a psychic like the Summoner. Interesting. Of course, you weren't around for him, but there are whispers among your kind. Folk stories. Memories.

 _Not like him. Regret-sad--wish. No talk with animals--wantto. Only lusii. Only with touch—difficultsometimeshard._ She grimaced.  _Only useful here. Want stay here. Hope not go—shipscare space nonono._ You try to look sympathetic, and she smiles, looking very young for a second.

She consults her clipboard again and strides purposefully down blindingly white corridors, before grinding to a halt in front of a room and waving her identity tag in front of a reader on the wall. The door slides open with a pneumatic hiss.

 _In, go._ She pushes you towards the door gently. You and Karkat enter. She picks up on that.  _Karkat, childname?_ You are unsettled by this woman and her communications of thoughts, but you think an affirmative. She smiles.  _Nicegoodlikename. Karkat, will enter into feedsystem, likelikelike pretty boy biggest eyes!_ You are proud, for a moment, of your handsome little troll.

“Karkat.”

He squeaks in surprise, swinging his head around to look straight at her in that too fluid, too bendy way that wrigglers have. His head has twisted a full one hundred and eighty, without as much as a flicker of a wince. She shakes a rubber toy at him. It rattles. His eyes go round and he detaches his claws from your carapace to reach out for it, little mouth open in awe. It is colourful and big and it makes a  _sound_ and he squirms to get down. You put him on the floor, and he totters towards the young woman. She smiles and hands the ball to him. Something which fills her hand is bigger than both of his. He shakes it and chuckles with glee.

 _Child sleep much?_ Three hours is not very much. She frowns. _Not enough--tired._

 _  
_

_feedfailworried--suffererscion suffererscion nodolorosa--lusus???! poorKarkat, prettyprettyboy._

 _feeddifficultanywaydifficultworrieddifficult_

 

 _taketaketakefeedfail?????_

 

You growl, and she snatches her hand away, taking a deep breath.  _Regret, apologies, nonsense thoughts. Feed can wait. Sleep. There. Bed. Softcomfortablenice. For sleeping._ She does seem to truly regret communicating those particular thoughts to you, a wave of guilt washes over you. She is shaken up, her power appears to be less controllable when she is stressed.  _Yesyesyes that reason sorry sorry regret sad—worryworryworry. No, mustn't. Sorry._ She takes her hand away again before she can concern you any more.

The dusky green troll smiled at Karkat, said his name once more and stroked his hair, before leaving the room. The lights intensify, making Karkat squint. He yawns instinctively, base urges to sleep in the day kicking in. You pick him up by the scruff of his tunic and dump him on the bed. He protests a little, but immediately is more interested by the soft place he has just encountered. He bounces and chuckles happily.

You lie down and curl up around Karkat protectively. He chirps happily and lies down, wriggling under an arm for cuddles, evidently too pleased by his surroundings to act independent and aloof. You are happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Goddamnit I thought this would only be a two parter, but I'm nowhere near as finished as I'd like. I'm struggling with this a little - I'm trying to give as little omniscient narrator as possible, because it ends up looking like there's just an omniscient Crabdad instead and that's just silly.
> 
> A couple of notes - I couldn't see how a world could work without some sort of adult influence running things. So I'm basically assuming that the older children (above six and below ten sweeps) would be assigned to some kind of work which would be useful to help groom them for the role they would play in the Empire. My faceless green/teal blood here isn't as thick as she might seem, she just doesn't have a very strong power.
> 
> Also, beds. I'd say the nightmares don't start until the trolls have been schoolfed and awaken the memories in their subconscious, as the trip there would be pretty shitty for lusii if their charges were screaming like little shitbags all day. So recuperacoons not needed yet. Plus excitable little Karkat, too adorbz to miss out on.
> 
> Merry Christmas. I hope you guys like this. I'll probably come back and edit it at some point when it's not 3am on christmas day.
> 
> -Helios x


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one's been so long in the making, guys! I've had exams and lectures and life's just generally gotten in the way. We're nearing the end now, I should think.

You awake as you hear the door slide open. You blink your four silvery eyes in the too-bright light, dim in comparison with sunlight but bright enough to give the institution an unsettling feeling. You raise your head, regarding the troll entering the room with two bowls. You unfurl from around Karkat, and he chunters at the absence of warmth for a second, before blinking his own golden eyes and sitting up on the too-soft surface.

He does his strangely sinuous fluid turn again to face the troll whom he appears to have bonded with. He fixes his gaze on the food in her hand and squeaks piteously. She grins wide, revealing a mouth full to the brim of uneven, whiter than white teeth; the most menacing set you've seen on a troll. She really is terribly beautiful. You wonder what her lusus is like.

Karkat bares his sharp little fangs at her in return, a poor reenactment of the smile she gave him. She places a bowl in front of you, and one in front of Karkat. Her fingertips brush against your carapace and rest gently. _Eat_. _show encourage Karkat encourage not scared feed brave exciting yes?_ Yes. It seems like a good idea to set an example for your troll. Obsolete advice really, as he's completely at ease with – _Volzia –_ with Volzia, and you're both hungry anyway. She nods sagely, and moves to sit with Karkat, calling his name. Perhaps a draconic type would have picked that name. They go in for low, sibilant sounds. It'd make sense, with all of those teeth. They say that your charge resembles you somehow. You wonder how Karkat will resemble you when he's grown out of his chubby toddler stage.

Karkat hasn't started eating yet. He looks to you inquisitively. Maybe her advice is more reasonable than it first seems. You begin to eat, grumbling at the difficulty of manoeuvring the rubbery fishy tasting cubes to your mandibles. It doesn't match the taste of freshly caught, but it gets Karkat eating. Judging by the voracity with which he tears into whatever he's been fed, you know it will never be easy to feed him again. You roll your eyes. He finishes his meal quickly and looks at you smugly, rubbing an eye with one chubby fist. You return the smug look, as he has rubbed yellow all over his face. Volzia chuckles at him, waiting for him to realise. The stickiness eventually dawns on him as strange and he growls utterly unmenacingly as he swipes at his eye and cheek, just worsening matters.

The girl breaks out into giggles and kneels down, pulling on her long sleeve. She gathers a fistful of it and sets to work on Karkat's face, rubbing the sticky food mess away. He chirrups and nuzzles against her dark skirt affectionately. You finish with your bowl and push it away. Karkat finished a long time ago, and Volzia appears to have cleaned the worst of the mess from your wriggler's face.

She stands up, and he squeaks and whines, dancing around her excitably. You have never seen him so cheerful. With you he is obstinate and petulant and irritating, if rather endearing. You hope for a moment that schoolfeeding will take some time, as he is happy at the institution. You are happy where he is happy. If Volzia makes him happy, she makes you happy. She picks him up and balances him on her hip, holding him close with one arm. He grabs fistfuls of her long, coarse hair, and coos. She brushes her hand against your claw. _Feed time - coming yes? Not want prettyprettyboy Karkat lonely sometimes scary some are scared could be difficult come come yes?_ You rise and follow her.

She leads you down endless white corridors, all the while talking to Karkat – you can understand if you try, all lusii can, but you don't have the best hearing – encountering a few others on the way. They appear to be of similar blood hues to her, but there is an unhappy blue girl dragging a screaming cerulean wriggler down the corridor. You feel uneasy; where is her lusus? The way she shrieks and hisses, the way she moves...she belongs to an arachnid type. Probably a big one, if she's on her own in the institution. Your group stops and Volzia converses briefly with the other young woman, before handing Karkat to you with the command of _wait please_

She scoops up the little highblood, consoling her, smoothing the tangles out of her hair. She murmurs the tiny girl's name over and over, shushing her. The name is sibilant, _Vriska Vriska Vriska..._ The girl calms and wipes her face tearfully. She is asked to use her words, and she reluctantly obeys, speaking carefully, like she's just learned to talk. She wants her lusus, she says. The older troll huffs impatiently, making both Karkat and Vriska jump. She hisses that she is taking Vriska to be signed and named, then she can go back to her _damn_ lusus.

You are glad that Volzia was the one to bring you and Karkat in. She utters a low growling noise at her colleague, just loud enough for you to hear. The look on her face says it all. She reaches towards her strife specibus, you see her inventory cycle behind her momentarily as she equips her bladekind – short, but very, very sharp. She growls louder, advancing on the shorter, higher hued girl, who glowers for a moment and flees, leaving her charge with your guide.

The woman sighs, and instructs you to _follow_ again. You head down the corridor Vriska just came from, and she whimpers a little, trying desperately to look brave. She juts her chin out defiantly and orders that she not be taken back in 'there.' She looks the part, but the quavering tone to her voice gives her fear away. You are uncomfortable. You are frightened for Karkat. He looks up at you and cheeps, sheepishly. Vriska twists around to look over Volzia's shoulder and stares at you. You notice that one of her eyes has seven pupils. Yes, she is definitely a spiderchild. The woman reassures the girl in her arms that she is not going back, it's Karkat's turn for schoolfeeding, and the girl sneers.

She claims that he'll be fine, lowbloods don't got to learn _anything._ You glower at the girl, and Volzia clicks her tongue disapprovingly, scolding as she does so. They come to another door that she swipes her card against, and the four of you enter. Vriska buries her face in Volzia's neck, but is not coddled for much longer. Volzia prises the troll girl from her and sets her down on the floor. She commands the little cerulean to wait there, and she takes Karkat from you gently, humming and purring at him. You notice the difference in the way she talks to him. You are proud once more that your little troll has made friends more easily than this awkward, irritating brat.

Karkat sits in a chair and is fastened in. One hand is buckled to the armrest, palm facing up, and he looks to you, concerned. You come closer, around the workings of the organic machinery, and crouch on the floor by his dangling feet. He presses his little legs against your hide, frightened. You rest your huge head in his tiny lap for a moment, and he seems to find comfort in the action.

You watch silently as Volzia prepares the huge machine, but you can't help growling as she brings a rubbery tube to Karkat's mouth. What is she doing to your boy? He whimpers, holding his lips tightly shut, but Volzia coaxes them open, smiling prettily at him. She feeds the tube down his throat gently, wincing with every squeak of dismay and gagging noise he makes. His eyes brim with tears, which she rubs away quickly, cooing and fussing. She stands between Vriska's curious eyes and Karkat's tears.

She takes some deep breaths before resting her hand on your hide. _Going to start feed. Take Vriska now – mustn't see him cry no no no dangerous mustn't - Be back soon soon soon._

The machine starts whirring, hydraulics start pumping, and the door hisses shut.

You are unspeakably afraid.


	4. Chapter 4

Karkat is whimpering and looking to you desperately, pressing his little feet into you. You make calming sounds at him, which seems to help, and inspect his open palm. Why is his hand placed like that? The machine works harder, the biotechnology pumping and growing warm in the otherwise cold room. Just as you place a pincer in Karkat's upturned hand and he grips it tight, the chair seems to grow a tendril that creeps up your boy's forearm and attaches itself firmly at the elbow. The little whimpers of fear that were lessening return with full force as he looks down in terror at his poor little arm. You feel a pang of guilt as he glares at you, utterly betrayed.

But not for long, as his small head falls back against the chair. He is sedated, and you are relieved. The tube comes into play now, as a thick yellow substance comes oozing up the pipe towards your tiny troll. You wonder why Volzia was so afraid. The feed varies in fluorescence, and you wonder what it means. You wonder if there is space for all of the thick gloop in Karkat's minuscule stomach, but reason they must know what they're doing. It's a process perfected just before the adults were shipped offworld, they say. Aeons ago.

You can't wait to hear him talk, you think, although you're certain you will miss the infantile chirrups and mewls. You understand those noises are meant to appeal to you, as his lusus, meant to alert you to his needs before he can express them in Alternian. But just because it's something that's meant to happen doesn't mean you can't enjoy it. You look forward to seeing the hive he will build. The location of your new residence – you hope vaguely that it is near water, but obviously it is down to him. You wonder what kind of neighbourhood you will be located in.

You worry what the feed will be like for your little off-spectrum boy.

The room is quiet. The constant, persistent humming of the machine is much less abrasive now it has begun its task in earnest, and you are a little ashamed of yourself but now you are bored. You have gotten too used to watching Karkat constantly. When he sleeps, you sleep. When he is awake you watch him with all eyes. Other than his legs twitching every now and again, though, there is very little to watch.

It seems to be taking a while for that little brat of a spiderchild to be signed and named officially. You hope you live nowhere near her and her presumably huge guardian. Spidertype tend to grow very large, very quickly, which would explain why Vriska was alone. Too big to fit in the corridors? You suppress a shudder. Yes, that's definitely not a thing you want to live anywhere near. Hopefully, her high ranking blood will secure her an exclusive spot, with her only neighbours being bratty children like herself.

Volzia re-enters the room, her skirts swishing purposefully around her, and she checks the screen on the machine. She stares at it for a moment before swearing and typing. She swears some more and growls at the machine, before contacting you hurriedly. She slaps a hand on your carapace and you would have had that hand _off_ if it weren't for the panic in her thoughts.

_Off spectrum feed mishap not fail problem problem problem hemospectrum educated according to hextype in moments –_ she takes a breath, panic still coursing through both of you –  _do I abortabortabort feed, risk lack of knowledge cull or let it run risk mental health damage?? self-loathing hatred insecurity oh no poor Karkat prettyboy ohh nono **what do I do**_

You can't answer. You look at her helplessly, and she looks at you with the same eyes.  _You don't blame me do you?_ You shake your head, no. This kind girl is in so much distress, green tinted tears welling up at the corners of her own eyes as she stands back and lets your boy's belly fill with the information that will haunt him for the rest of his life.

The feed makes your choice for the two of you. As the information is poured down his throat he begins to thrash as much as the chair's restraints allow, choking on the pipe and making the most terrified sound you've ever heard him make and it hurts you. More than when he knew real pain for the first time. More than when he thought he'd lost you on the banks of the great river. More than the bad dreams and the scraped knees and the encounters with other animals – more than anything.

You screech angrily and express your dismay as Volzia stands, frozen, whilst your boy suffers. Your furious bellowing shocks her back into the real world, however, and she swoops down on the machine, typing furiously before snarling at the machine and yanking all of the wires. You swear you hear it yelp as it immediately shuts off. She pulls the seemingly neverending tube from his mouth, and the wire from his tiny vein before wrenching the fastenings  _clean away from the chair_ – impressive – and gathering him up quickly. Again she commands you to follow before sprinting off down the corridor. You keep up with her easily and when she reaches the room she put you in before she is out of breath and coughing. She swipes the door with her keycard and the three of you bundle in.

She lies him down on his stomach on the bed, head dangling off the edge, thumping him fervently on the back. You realise the reason for the running – Karkat isn't breathing. One last whack and he empties the contents of his stomach onto the floor, taking a haggard breath. She sits back on her heels, relief plastered across her face as he gasps for breath, sobbing. You hope that Volzia can stay at this institution, too – after the events of tonight she has proven herself better at this job than you would have ever expected.

He sits up and wipes his mouth, glaring dejectedly at everything except you and her. She smiles at him.

“Karkat?”

“What.” His little voice, though sulky and hoarse, is lovely.

“Can you tell me what you've learned?”

“My name is Karkat Vantas. My hextype is #FF0000. Tonight is the twentieth night of the second perigee of the dark season.” She nods and smiles. His top lip twitches, as if he were holding back a snarl. You hope not. “What happened?” He meets her gaze now, but the intense stare doesn't change. It's as if the feed has changed his personality.

Maybe it's just the experience, you think. Maybe it's the trauma of his feed.

“Your feed went wrong, Karkat. It had to be shut off early.”

“So you did this to me.” His little mouth is open and his teeth are bared. She presses her lips together. You feel sorry for her, but you can't help but see his point.

“I'm sorry.”

He sneers. It's an ugly look on your tiny troll, his pretty little face screwed up in derision.

“I want to go to be signed and named now.” She nods, and stands up. The stench of vomit is nauseating – synthetics mixed with bile. He shuffles to the edge of the bed next to you and hops off. You cock your head inquisitively at him and say his name. He meets you with that cold expression, and you realise this may have changed him forever.

He follows Volzia down the corridor of his own volition. He stares daggers at you for even getting close enough to him to pick him up. You knew schoolfeeding would change him, you reason. But somehow that doesn't make you feel any better.

Solemnly, he picks out one of the few signs appropriate for a Cancer. You approve. He requests it in grey. You approve further. This dour little boy of yours is sensible, at least. He presses his tiny, tiny hand onto the piece of paperwork which designates him as Karkat Vantas for the rest of his life, however long that may be.

You leave the schoolfeeding institution and he heads off in a direction that he claims feels right. He is unnecessarily harsh with you. His tones are clipped and demanding. You have to remind yourself on several occasions that he's still your charge, your troll, your  _Karkat_ . You love him unconditionally. This will just be more difficult than anticipated.

The two of you head towards where Karkat leads. He will build a hive there, with the help of several carpenter drones. That will be the trials of his infancy completely over, although you can't help but feel that the trials the two of you will face over the coming sweeps are only just beginning.

There is hope, though, when he grows simply too tired to walk, and demands that you carry him. You nestle him close to your chest and you could swear, just for a second, you see a glimmer of a smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it then, folks. I can't believe this took so long for me to finish, but there we are. I hope you enjoyed it.


End file.
